


Hellfire

by Elri



Series: Midnight Confessions [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Sleeptalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elri/pseuds/Elri
Summary: Crowley has nightmares about things that happened, or could have happened





	Hellfire

_“Aziraphale! Aziraphale! Where the Heaven are you, you idiot? I can't find you! Aziraphale, for God's- for Satan's- Ah! For_ somebody's _sake, where are you?!”_

_Crowley stumbled through the bookshop, searching desperately for his angel. The shelves just kept going, winding ever on, and the flames never ceased. They seemed to spread out from the walls towards him, grasping, trying to stop him._

_Finally, Crowley saw Aziraphale. He was standing in the middle a wide-open area. In front of him was a familiar, swirling column of fire. On the other side, Crowley could see the archangels, with Gabriel and his stupid smug face front and center._

They know, _Crowley realized,_ they know we tricked them.

_“Aziraphale!” He tried to run forward, reaching out to stop what was about to happen, but the flames had caught up to him. One wrapped around his leg and tripped him, sending his glasses flying off as he hit the ground. More climbed up his body, binding his limbs. The hand reaching out towards Aziraphale shook as it struggled against the fire. As he tried to call out again, a burning flame covered his mouth. Crowley was helpless to do anything but watch as Aziraphale, head held high, stepped forward into the Hellfire._

“NOOO!” Crowley sat up, panting heavily, hand still outstretched. A nightmare, he slowly realized, it was only a nightmare. Still, he couldn’t get the images of the flames out of his head. He could still feel them wrapped around him, burning him even though they shouldn’t have been able to. Without even bothering to look at a clock, Crowley threw his sheets off and headed out of his flat, changing into his clothes with a snap.

It must’ve been very late or very early because there was hardly any traffic on the roads and he made it to the bookshop in record time. Of course, he was also practically standing on the accelerator. As he rounded the corner, he braced himself, remembering the sight of Aziraphale’s beloved shop slowly turning to ash. But the flames were only in his head, the bookshop was still standing undisturbed.

Crowley let his hand brush against the doorframe as he let himself in, need the assurance that this was real. In the back room, he found Aziraphale sitting up late on his couch, so engrossed in his book he hadn’t noticed Crowley’s arrival. Crowley took a minute, leaning against a nearby shelf, to just take in the scene. Aziraphale was wearing his round glasses, even though he didn’t really need them, and the lamp over his shoulder cast a faint glow on his hair. It was calm, it was normal, and it was real. Finally, Crowley rapped his knuckles against the shelf. Aziraphale looked up, startled, but smiled as soon as he saw who it was.

“Crowley! This is quite the pleasant surprise.” He set his glasses aside and put down the book, a bookmark miraculously appearing between the pages. After a quick stretch and roll of his neck, he looked around, trying to find a clock, “What time is it?”

“Not sure, didn’t check.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Crowley admitted, “Figured I’d come see what you were doing and try to tempt to you off to another time zone for lunch; or breakfast; or brunch; or whatever they’re eating at whatever time it is. I’m pretty sure Japan’s awake, we could grab some authentic sushi.”

“That does sound _very_ tempting,” Aziraphale said, smiling at his own little joke, “However, if you don’t mind me saying, you look awfully tired. Have you been getting enough rest?”

“I don’t _need_ sleep, Angel, I just do it for pleasure; to _indulge_ myself every now and then.”

“Yes I know that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to at least rest every now and then. We’re not invincible, you know.”

“Right…” Crowley looked down, toeing the edge of the carpet. “Do you…could I stay here? For the night? It’s just, I don’t feel like driving back to the flat and if I _really_ look tired I probably shouldn’t try to get there myself and I figure if we still decide to go to Japan then I’m already here and-“

“Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupted gently. He patted the other side of the couch, “You can stay here as long as you’d like, and there’s a bed somewhere upstairs under a pile of books.”

“Right, thanks, I’ll just sit down for a minute, maybe find the bed later,” Crowley kept rambling a little as he sat down, trying to relax into his usual sprawl without invading Aziraphale’s space. Aziraphale just smiled at him and went back to reading.

It didn’t take long for the familiar comfort of the bookshop to take its hold. Crowley’s posture untensed from forced slouch to dead-asleep. Aziraphale glanced up when Crowley’s leg pressed into his, miracling a pillow under Crowley’s head without a second thought, the same quiet smile on his face. A few moments passed, and Crowley shifted in his sleep, somehow managing to completely switch his position without waking up at all. He was now pressed against Aziraphale’s side in a way that might be comfortable if he were in snake form, or a cat, but otherwise gave Aziraphale a crick just looking at it. He put his book aside, carefully lifted his arm, and adjusted Crowley so that he was basically laying in Aziraphale’s lap, removing his sunglasses so they didn’t get bent. Crowley murmured something that sounded like “Angel” before sighing contentedly and sleeping on.

After a few hours, when Aziraphale had nearly dozed off himself, Crowley started talking in his sleep. “’ziraph’le, where’re you?”

“Right here, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, putting his hand on Crowley’s arm and rubbing with his thumb.

“Can’t f’nd you.” He shifted again, brow furrowing, “’ziraphale?”

“I’m here, I’m right here.”

“Don’t g’in.”

“Go in where?”

“Fire, don’t g’in the fire.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Crowley’s hand, which had been resting on Aziraphale’s knee, gripped him tightly, “Leave my angel alone you bastards.”

“I’m here, Crowley, I’m with you, it’s alright, my dear.” Aziraphale started running his fingers through Crowley’s hair while whispering words of reassurance and comfort. He let a little bit of miraculous power seep through to brush away whatever horrors were tormenting his dear friend. “It’s not real, Crowley, let it go, it’s just a nightmare, you’re safe.”

Slowly Crowley relaxed. His grip released, the tense lines around his shoulders softened, and he sighed again as he buried his face a little deeper in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale kept up his soothing motions, not wanting to let his guard down. When the morning sun started creeping in through the windows, Crowley stirred and turned partially onto his back, blinking up at Aziraphale.

“M’rnin’ Angel.”

“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm.” Crowley sat up, stretched, and looked at Aziraphale with bleary eyes, scratching the back of his head in confusion. “Did I fall asleep on you?”

“Sort of. I don’t mind, you needed the rest.”

“You’re warm,” Crowley said, brain filter still not quite caught up, “’s nice.”

“Happy to be of help. Crowley, I don’t mean to pry, but it seemed as though you were having a bad dream at one point.”

“Yeah…”

“May I ask what it was about?”

“…” Crowley suddenly wished he still had his sunglasses on, “I saw the bookshop on fire. And…I saw you, standing in front of the hellfire, being sentenced by Gabriel. I tried to get to you, Angel, but I couldn’t do it.”

Aziraphale reached out and took one of Crowley’s hands in his own, “You’re here now; the bookshop is fine, I’m fine, and we don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.”

“What if they find out?” Crowley asked quietly, “What if they find out what we did?”

“Then we face them together.” Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips, kissing it on the knuckles, “I promise not to abandon you again.”

“Together,” Crowley agreed, unconsciously leaning forward as he was drawn to the comfort of Aziraphale’s eyes. There were sparks in them, bright, familiar, and safe.

Aziraphale leaned forward as well, meeting Crowley in a gentle kiss. One of Aziraphale’s hands let go of Crowley’s and moved to his neck, sliding back into his hair to press them closer together. Crowley made a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, moving closer until he was practically in Aziraphale’s lap. When they finally broke apart, Aziraphale pecked Crowley’s lips again, and gently tilted his head down to kiss his forehead. The hand still holding Crowley’s interlaced their fingers together.

“Now, my dear, what do you say we go try that authentic Japanese sushi?”

“Right beside you, Angel.”


End file.
